Sweet Remembrance: A night at Ingleside
by Mia Sedai
Summary: Anne and Gilbert are telling their children about what it was like when they lived in Avonlea. COMPLETE


The wind was howling around the houses at Glen St. Mary. A gloomy moon was shining through the trees, and the sea was roaring. It was December, and it was as cold as only December can be. But at Ingleside there was fire in the hearth, and all around the living room the Blythe's were gathered. All the children had come home for Christmas; even Jem was at home, because his wife was spending the evening at the manse with her family. The girls were knitting, all except Rilla, who were sewing ferociously on what was to be little Jims' Christmas gift.  The boys were reading, and the doctor and his wife were talking quietly by the fire. Susan, the devoted Ingleside housekeeper had just come out from the kitchen, where she had locked herself up all week, preparing the Christmas food. It was still five days left, though, and she had decided she needed a break. All in all it was as homely an evening as anyone could've asked for. The warmth from the fire and the warmth from the love between all these people made Ingleside the perfect place to be on an evening like this.  
  
Suddenly Mrs. Blythe howled with laughter. Everyone blinked and looked up from what they were doing. Her gray eyes were twinkling and her read hair was as red as it had ever been. "Mrs. Dr. dear! What is going on? You scared me stiff with that outburst of yours!" scolded Susan friendly. Mrs. Blythe smiled at her family, then at her husband. "Oh I am very sorry, Susan. Gilbert and I are just talking about the old Avonlea days. And I couldn't help but laugh at my own dreadfulness." Dr. Blythe's eyes were filled with laughter, as well. Though he was coming closer to 60, and his hair was more gray than black, you could still see that he was a handsome man. And some of that same mischievousness from his younger days was still present. He loved his wife with all the love and tenderness anyone could ever have asked for. The last 35 years they had spent together had made up for all those years when she had refused to talk to him. And now both the doctor and his wife could look back on those days with a smile and tender memory. "Oh mother, I don't believe you were as dreadful as you claim," was Rilla's reply. Beautiful, tender Rilla. Now in her twenties and soon to be married to Kenneth Ford, she was still the eye turner of many boys at the Glen. The war had changed her more than anyone. From being a spoiled little girl at 15 she had gone to be a beautiful and responsible woman. Taking care of little Jims and raising him, despite what everyone else thought possible, had changed her more than most people thought could be done in four years. And losing her beloved Walter had given her laughing eyes a sadness that could never be replaced. She often thought of her brother. And she would always carry with her his memory. But the laughter had returned, and though she was now a woman, some of the same innocence could still be seen when she spoke.  
  
"Oh, I am afraid it is true, my dear Rilla," was Mrs. Blythe's reply to her daughter. "After your father called me Carrots that first day of school I swore never to talk to him again." "Carrots?" asked Shirley and looked up from his book. The doctor looked at his children and arched his eyebrows. "You never heard of that?" he said incredulously. The children shook their heads and looked at their parents. Mrs. Blythe was still chuckling under her breath and told her husband to tell them all about it. She couldn't believe they didn't know!  
  
"Well," started Gilbert with a smile. In his mind's eye he was back at the Avonlea School, and he could remember perfectly well the day in question. "It was the first day of school after the summer, and we were all a bit excited, but also a bit sad that the vacation was now over. Me and Moody Spurgeon and Fred Wright were talking, when Moody said he had heard from his mother that a new girl was going to begin at our school. And he had heard that she was quite something. Apparently she had yelled at Mrs. Rachel Lynde, dyed her hair green, and done all kinds of crazy things. And from what he had heard she could talk the hind leg off a mule. Or so he had heard his mother say. And like that wasn't enough, her hair was as red as carrots!" At this Gilbert looked at his wife with a smile. "Oh am I glad you didn't hear him say that," he said and chuckled. "Oh dad, go on," said Nan and Di in unison. They had never known their mother was like that! To them she was the perfect image of a smiling and tender mother. That she could yell at Aunt Rachel and dye her hair green was more than either of them would believe. And that she was such a talker? Oki, so she had her moments, but nothing at all like that. They just didn't believe it.  
  
"Just before school was about to begin I could see her coming towards the school with Diana Barry," the doctor continued. "And never in my life had I seen someone so beautiful. She was merely a little girl, and I wasn't older than 16, but still she had my heart racing. I knew then and there that I would have to get to know her."   
  
"I remember I was so nervous," said Anne and took over the talking. "But Diana had assured me that everything would go perfectly well, and as long as I didn't do anything outrageous it would be a great day. Oh what a friend she was! I don't know how I could've gone on without her." She smiled absently and went on talking. "As we came onto school grounds the teacher was just about to call the class and we went inside. I got to sit next to Diana, and I was so happy. I didn't know anyone but her, but I recognized a few people from a Sunday school picnic I had been to a few weeks earlier. To my left there was a tall, handsome boy with the most delightful curls, but he had winked at me during the picnic, and therefore I had decided I would not talk to him. He would have to be taught some manners before I could be his friend." She laughed again and looked at her husband. "Mom, was that dad who had winked at you?" said Rilla over her sewing. Mrs. Blythe nodded. "It most surely was. I always thought he was too frank for his own good." Dr. Blythe only laughed, but he was the one who took up the story.  
  
"All day I spent thinking about how I was to get her attention. Then during the last class I mustered enough courage to lean over to her and try to talk to her. But she never answered. I tried so hard, but I thought she was ignoring me, and then, being my 16-year-old self I whispered 'Carrots' and dragged one of her braids. Oh I never should have done that," he said and shook his head. "If I had only known." "What happened, mom?" said Jem who, despite his almost 30 years was just as interested in this story as any of the others. "What happened," said Mrs. Blythe, "was that I got so furious because he had called me Carrots, that I forgot all else, jumped to my feet and smashed my slate over his head!" Everyone in the room, except the doctor himself, gaped. "But Mrs. Dr. dear! You don't seriously mean that you actually smashed your slate over that poor doctor's head, do you?" said Susan astonished. "Indeed she did," said Gilbert and smiled at his wife. "But what did the teacher do?" asked Rilla. "He must have been absolutely hopping from madness." She could not for her bare life picture her mother breaking a slate over anyone's head. But if she said it was so, then it must have been so. And for her father to call someone carrots! It was absolutely amazing. Especially knowing how much mother had hated her red hair when she was younger. "Oh he was," replied Anne sincerely. "He made me write 'Anne Shirley has a very bad temper' on the blackboard a hundred times before I left. I thought it was the worst injustice ever done to me. After all I had no blame in it at all. It was that dreaded Blythe boy who had made me do it." She laughed at the fond memories. It all seemed like yesterday. And how mad she had been. "What happened next?" asked Jem. "She refused to talk to me for five years," was the doctor's answer. Everyone blinked. "I did talk to you," Anne replied, "only I didn't want to be your friend. Because you had insulted me the worst way possible." "So you mean to say, that you two didn't become friends before after five years?" Rilla was stunned. Why had no one told her this? The doctor shook his head. "I tried my best, but your mother is a stubborn woman, just like some of her children, and however hard I tried to make it up to her she refused to talk to me for five years." "We were the best enemies there ever was, though," added Anne with an afterthought. "I don't think I ever would have gotten that far in school unless you had been there." "So you two were enemies, fought each other in public and rivaled at school?" Shirley asked with large eyes. He had never known this. Why had no one told him? Anne and the doctor nodded. "True as I live," was the doctor's reply.  
  
"Well Mrs. Dr. dear, I am sure glad you came to your senses," said Susan and went back to her knitting. She had been so intent on the story that she had forgotten all about the socks and the starving children who were getting them, but now that the story was coming to an end she took them back up. "I am glad of that, too, Susan," said Gilbert with a smile. "I am very glad of that." He looked tenderly at his wife. "Those five years were the worst years of my entire life. Except the war. And that says something. I knew I loved her from the day I saw her, but your mother is, like I said, a very stubborn woman, and just couldn't be brought to her senses." "So what did it take for you to realize you loved him?" Rilla asked her mother. But it was the doctor who answered. "Nothing less than me nearly dying." Again everyone was stunned. "You nearly dying?" said Jem, his eyes as large as serving plates. The doctor nodded. "Yes, but that is a story for another time. I am an old man and need my sleep." He rose. "I am getting up early tomorrow so it will have to wait." The children protested, Susan gave him her most evil glare and Mrs. Blythe smiled warmly. She knew what he meant. And she could still remember it as if it had just happened. No matter how old she got, she would always remember Davy Keith's words 'did you know Gilbert Blythe is dying?' and how her heart had stopped beating for a few seconds. When she looked back on it it was the best thing that could have happened, though. She had read her Book of Revelation that night, and after that nothing had been quite the same.  
  
"Well, good night children," the doctor said and hid a yawn. Then he bent down and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Good night Carrots," he said tenderly, winked mischievously and walked upstairs.


End file.
